


Chalk

by elaiel



Category: Stargate Universe
Genre: Gen, Ghosts, Gothic, Psychological Horror, Writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-28
Updated: 2012-08-28
Packaged: 2017-11-13 02:21:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/498392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elaiel/pseuds/elaiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doctor Nicholas Rush was not unused to seeing people who were not there...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chalk

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the "Stargateland" Spooky Tropes challenge. A little homage to Edgar Allan Poe...

Doctor Nicholas Rush was not unused to seeing people who were not there, the AI had done it to him, and he was not entirely sure that his own brain hadn’t done it to him, or if Gloria as well as Franklin had been the product of the AI.  
   
So when the boy appeared at the bottom of his bed, he wasn’t unduly worried. A little concerned maybe, and confused as to the relevance of an approximately six year old boy at the bottom of his bed. So far the AI had only appeared to him on the bridge and had used people he knew. He was pretty certain he didn’t know the child.  
   
The child was a sad looking child with big brown eyes and mousey brown hair cut short over his ears, with floppy bangs. He was wearing some kind of tunic and trousers and that was unusual also. The child gave him another sad eyed look and disappeared. Rush blinked, waited to see if he reappeared then went back to sleep.  
   
   
It was three days later when the child reappeared, walking out into the corridor ahead of his, necessitating Rush slowing his stride to avoid walking into, or more likely through, the child. The child looked frustrated, and made an indeterminate gesture at Rush.  
   
“What do you want?” Rush asked the child.  
   
The child stared at him, then pointed up the corridor.  
   
“No, I’m going to the bridge.”  
   
The child pointed again.  
   
“Look if it’s that important you can say it out loud.”  
   
“Sorry?” Lieutenant James walked up behind him. “Are you okay Doctor?”  
   
Rush turned to look at her, she was giving him a curious look. He turned back to the child, but the corridor was empty.  
   
“Nothing.” He said to James. “Just thinking out loud.”  
   
He strode off to the bridge.  
   
   
The next time he saw the child, the boy was waiting outside of the door to his quarters as he opened the door. The child fixed him with a dark look and pointed imperiously along the corridor, away from the inhabited areas of the ship. Rush stared back at the child frowning.  
   
“Not a chance.” He snapped.  
   
The child stamped his foot and there was no sound.  
   
“If you want something you can damn well tell me what it is.”  
   
He stepped round the child carefully and walked away.  
   
He was late back to his quarters, he had been deep in an analysis of sensor readings Destiny had taken over seven thousand years ago which had been, frankly, fascinating. He was still mulling it over when he walked into his room and sat down on the bed, and consequently didn’t notice it until he pulled himself together to pull off shoes and socks and start getting ready for bed. The socks and shoes were placed next to the bed and he came up to pull off his shirts and saw it.  
   
The line of childish text was chalked around the room, a single line about a metre above floor level. Ancient. The white chalk looked very much like the chalk he used in his thinking corridor. He picked up his radio slowly.  
   
“Eli, this is Doctor Rush.”  
   
There was a short pause.  
   
“Err, hi. What’s up?”  
   
“Could you come to my quarters, Eli.”  
   
“Uhh, yeah, sure.”  
   
Rush waited, still sitting on the bed, until there was a knock at his door. He stood and walked over. Opening it.  
   
“Come in.”  
   
Eli walked in, and his eyes immediately looked at the text.  
   
“Wow! What is it?”  
   
“I have no idea.”  
   
Eli started to read the text, badly. Rush took over.  
   
“It says, ‘ _I’m sorry I didn’t mean to run away, please come and get me._ ’ And it repeats all the way round the room.”  
   
“Wow. Why did you write it?”  
   
Rush glared at Eli.  
   
“I didn’t. And the only other people able to write this are you, Volker and possibly Brody or Park. Being as I was with Park and Volker all day…”  
   
“No, seriously!” Eli threw up both hands. “I totally didn’t. I mean, I like a good trick but…well, it’s your quarters!” He looked around again. “And Brody was with me all day.”  
   
Rush gave him a long look but it didn’t look like he was lying and Eli was a terrible liar. He nodded.  
   
“Thank you Eli.”  
   
“Where did it come from?”  
   
Rush shrugged.  
   
“A joke maybe?”  
   
“Not a good one.” Eli gave it another look. “I’m gonna go, but if you want a hand washing it off let me know.”  
   
Rush looked around.  
   
“Maybe tomorrow Eli, it’s late.”  
   
He showed the young man to the door and with a last look around got ready for bed and went to sleep.  
   
The boy was waiting for him in the corridor the next morning, staring at him with a fearful intensity. Rush regarded him for a moment.  
   
“Come on lad.” He said, walking off, but waiting for the child to follow.  
   
The child followed. Rush walked the three corridors to his thinking corridor, where he set to work. The child watched him the whole time he worked. Rush was aware of him in the corner of his eye. After two or three hours of work he stepped back.  
   
“Damn.”  
   
He looked at what he was working on and could see where he had gone wrong, several steps of the process from the beginning. He pursed his lips staring at it.  
   
The text shivered. There was no other way to describe it, and then starting at the top left, the chalk text dropped off the wall in a stream of powder, one character after the other. Rush watched it in incredulity, after several seconds turning to the child who was glaring at the wall.  
   
The cascade of powder sped up and the characters fairly fell off the wall. Rush watched as the wall cleared from one end to the other, until all the walls were clear. The chalk lifted from the floor, started to scrape over the wall.  
   
‘ _I’m sorry I didn’t mean to run away, please come and get me. I’m here please come and get me, I’m sorry please come and get me, I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean to hide, I’m sorry please come and get me…_ ’  
   
The text filled the walls, a screed of Ancient characters, coming faster and faster and faster until with a crack the chalk shattered, showering Rush with crumbs and powder. Rush turned to the child, looking to see what he was doing. But the child was gone.  
   
Not the AI, really not the AI.  
   
Not Rush himself. Eli had seen the text.  
   
Rush backed out of the corridor, hitting the door and closing it without taking his eyes off it. When the door was closed he spun to leave.  
   
The child was there, staring at him balefully standing in the middle of the corridor. The child pointed down the corridor. Rush paused, staring at the child, the child’s finger stabbed out again imperiously, and a chalk arrow appeared on the wall.  
   
“Fine, I’m following you.” Rush said finally.  
   
He walked down the corridor and as he got to the end an arrow appeared at the junction, and a further arrow at the next junction. A further arrow, a fourth, seventh, twelfth and now Rush had little idea of where he was.  
   
The child was gone but the arrows continued to appear, one after the other. Rush followed them, hoping they would not disappear and he could find his way back, followed them until they stopped.  
   
The child faded into view, hazy and indistinct, gave him a glare and walked into a wall. Rush stared at the wall, it was solid and unblemished. Ancient text began to appear.  
   
 _“I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hide from you, Are you coming? I’m sorry please come and get me…”_  
   
“I’m coming!” he snapped. “But there’s no way in.”  
   
 _“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to run away, please come and get me…”_  
   
Rush looked around the corridor was empty apart from…a grate. He stared at it, the child appearing in the corner of his vision.  
   
 _“I didn’t mean to hide, I didn’t mean it, Daddy! I didn’t mean it…”_  
   
Rush yanked the grate away from the duct, it was narrow in there, and dark. The boy was standing next to the grate, tears streaming down his face.  
   
 _“Daddy! I didn’t mean to run away from you. I didn’t mean it…”_  
   
The text wrapped round the entry to the duct. Rush looked at the child…and crawled into the duct. It was tight in there, so very tight but he pushed in, feeling his way ahead. Behind him he could hear the sound of chalk skittering over the walls, scratching, scraping pleas into the walls _Come and get me!_  
   
There was something powdery under his fingers, fine, dry and dusty, his hands slid through it with the unerring knowledge he was almost there, almost there, the chalk scratching over the bulkheads, his elbows rubbing raw patches against the walls.  
   
His hand closed over something in the powder, hard and cold and he pulled it towards him, the chain attached to it falling over his hand as he dragged it through the powdery floor, and clasped it to him, wrapping the chain round his hand.  
   
There was a clatter as the chalk fell to the floor out in the corridor.  
   
Rush began to try to make his way back out of the corridor, but his elbows couldn’t make purchase on the walls, shoulders were wedged in the duct. He struggled, trying to gain purchase with his hands to force himself backwards, but his hands slid through the powdery floor unable to gain purchase.  
   
Panic hit him. He was trapped in the duct, corridors and decks away from the crew, no-one would hear him, no-one even realise he was gone and would they find him even when they did. Did the chalk marks even exist? He realised he was hyperventilating, breath coming shallow in his constricted chest, bright sparks flashing in front of his eyes in the dark conduit.  
   
The conduit swam around him and the mental darkness came rushing up to grab him. Faintly he was aware of small cold hands wrapping round his ankles before the floor of the conduit came rushing towards his face.  
   
Rush came round in the corridor. He had passed out. Damn, he’d been working too hard. He hadn’t had a moment like this in years. He pulled himself up to sitting, realising the pain in his face, and as he bent his arm to touch his face, his elbows. His fingers came away from his nose bloody and encrusted with powder and the pendant swung free from his hand on it's chain.  
   
“Feyin.” The name was engraved in Ancient script on the circular gold plaque.  
   
He looked up as the chalk text began to powder away from the wall, character after character dropping away to leave a single message from the remaining text.  
   
 _‘Daddy. I’m coming.’_


End file.
